“What are you doing here? Are you out of your mind?” my father hissed, his voice sharp with panic. “If she finds out, all our efforts over the years will be wasted!”
But my mother, ever the doting protector, rushed to defend her.
“She hasn’t been back in so many years. She just misses home,” she pleaded softly. “Why must you be so harsh?”
“She’s dressed like this anyway. Azalea won’t recognize her.”
Elijah, of course, was moved by her act, as he always had been.
And then, in that familiar, saccharine tone, Scarlett murmured, “Honey, today is my birthday too. I want to cut the cake later.”
Elijah barely hesitated. “Alright,” he said smoothly. “Since Azalea is in a wheelchair and it’s inconvenient for her, you can do it.”
And just like that, right before my eyes, Scarlett stole what was meant to be mine.
She stepped forward, lifted the knife and cut into my exclusive birthday cake, a towering masterpiece over a meter tall.
She took it a step further, her malice on full display as she sliced my chocolate figurine clean in half.
Then, without warning, a loud bang could be heard.